Living with a Monster
by Coldbone
Summary: Nick looses his temper one day after a bad case, and it turnes out to happend again, and again. Greg wants to get help, but that would include showing people his face without a brave mask on his face. He can't let that happen. Warning: slash and dark fic.
1. First Time

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI**

**A/N: just trying something out. Leave me a review if you want me to continue, or if you want me to delete it. And there's the sock cliché in this one. Didn't know what else to do. **

…**ugh, want to write some fluff now. Have gotten all depressed. **

**Warning: contains slash. Dark themes. **

* * *

**Living with a Monster**

We all wear masks. Not just when it's Halloween. We wear one when we are working, we have one when we buy the day's dinner at the grocery store, one when we eat disgusting meals on family reunions no one really likes (except for the poor lady who cooked the meal), one with friends and one when we are with our lovers. And some of us even wear a mask when we are by ourselves. We all hide the monsters we all really are behind masks. Happy, perfect looking masks.

We keep our masks on, and some even have full costumes, so the world can keep swirling around like it always has done. So our community, and our social morals and unwritten rules, can keep on being the roots of our behavior. The roots of our existence. Our civilized society. The root of how others see us. How they think of us.

Some of us have alcohol problems, others have mental issues and some of us don't want people to see their dark monster. If a family member tried to take suicide, it wouldn't have been talked about. The people who knew about it would simply never bring up the subject, because it's a shame. The neighbors can never know. That would have changed their social status for them. If they knew. The same with alcohol problems. People can never know.

The monsters can never be released. They can never be seen.

So the masks stay on. But sometimes they slip of, by accident. But they get right on afterwards. Like nothing ever happened. But the price for that little slip is high. People know.

Greg Sanders' slip turned out to be a fatal one.

* * *

It all started for a few years ago. He moved in with the most lovable guy possible, Nick Stokes. A guy who never did anything wrong, he was a CSI. He caught killers and rapists and put them behind bars. Or at least he helped the police putting them behind bars.

No one knew about their relationship, they kept it secret. Friends, coworkers and family. None of them knew. Couldn't know. So they both held their straight masks up. They might have been revealed, because they couldn't _not_ exchange looks, touches, and the more or less innocent small kisses. But no one ever noticed them. It was a game to them. How long can we fool them, how long will it take before someone notices?

No one noticed that they took the same weekends off, no one noticed that their addresses became the same, and no one noticed the same colored cat fur on their clothes, or that they smelled the same.

It all started so well. The lab rat believed that he couldn't love someone higher than he loved Nick. And it seemed like Nick loved him just as much back.

But every relationship staggers sometimes, as did theirs. It started with something stupid. A simple mistake. No one's fault. Or maybe it was both of them. It really didn't matter. But things developed.

It was a sock. Greg had tossed one of his dirty socks on the bathroom floor Nick just had cleaned up. Nick had had a bad case, and was tired and annoyed even before he saw the orange sock on his very clean tiled floor.

"Greg!" Nick was going to fix this problem. He was tired of being the one who did cleaning all the time. He was going to make Greg pick up that sock even if he had to force the bastard himself. Nick found it ironic that Greg now was in the living room, watching some stupid show on the TV. _His_ TV. In _his_ apartment. Greg was currently sitting on _his_ couch. He knew that they shared everything quite fair, but he was so just so tired of all this. It wasn't just socks Greg left on the floor.

"Yeah? Where are you Nick?" Greg entered the bathroom without noticing the danger he was in. he had a soda in his hand. A soda _Nick_ had bought the other day. "Oh, there you are."

"I thought we talked about this a week ago, Greg!" Nick said angrily to Greg, and lifted the colorful sock so Greg could see what the problem was.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that one. 'S no big deal, Nick. It's just a sock. Relax, man. Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight?" Nick's jaw clenched. It was always like this. _It's no big deal, Nick_. But it was.

"That was what you said last week too, and the time before that, and the time before that again. I'm beginning to get sick of all this, Greg. I'm the one who does all the cleaning, and you're the one who makes a mess of everything after I'm done."

Greg only looked at him funnily. "Well, I do at least just as much cleaning around here as you do, Mr. Stokes. I think you're being a little unreasonable right now." Nick threw the dirty sock at him, and they went into the living room again.

"I'm the unreasonable? It's not much I'm asking of you, Gregory! But you're never doing anything about it! You just keep living in your head, never really growing up! You just keep acting like a spoiled child who never really left his parents!" _Gregory_. Nick never called him that. Now he knew that Nick was pissed. Greg had no trouble when it came to money, his mother had worked with oil back home in Norway, and moved to the US with his dad so she could actually use her money. Her son got a big part of it, so she knew that he would make it even if they lived in separate countries from times to times. So Greg worked as a DNA tech, not because he needed the money, but because he liked the job, and because Nick also worked there. He could have worked many other places with much higher wages, but he still stayed, because he knew Nick wanted that.

"If this is about the money, just tell me. I can do things about that." Greg was hurt. Nick didn't usually have a problem with that. But he knew that Nick's pride had gotten a bit hurt when he figured out exact how much money Greg really had, but didn't use just because of him.

"It's not about the _money_, you moron, it's about your _behavior!_ You're never growing up! You're never taking _any_ responsibility! And I'm sick of it!"

"And you're always acing perfect, is that what you're saying? Because that's not true. You're the one who very often comes home all grumpy, tired and antisocial because you let a case get onto you. But I never complain! And here you are, complaining about a fucking sock? If that's so, then I'm not the only moron in here." Greg was pissed off.

"That's over the line, Greg!" Nick pointed a finger warningly at his now angry lover.

"No, it's not! Every time a kid has gotten killed or raped or robbed or whatever, you always come home all mad for nothing! And I can never do anything about it. I don't know how long I can take treatment like that, Nick!"

_Kid who's gotten raped_. That touched a nerve. Nick had never told Greg. He didn't need to know.

Nick exploded like he'd never done before. He wanted to leave, and never come back. Greg would manage without him. Greg didn't need him.

"You have no right, you motherfucker. No right! It's OVER" Greg shocked face was the last thing he saw before he found his keys and turned to leave the apartment. But his smaller boyfriend was faster than him, and blocked the doorway.

"Don't you leave me _din helvetes jævla kuksuger_, I won't let you!" Tears stung Greg's big, scared eyes.

Nick was now so angry that he went all calm. Greg might have believed that Nick wouldn't understand what he had said, but Nick had understood more than enough. "If I remember right, Greg, you're the one who sucks my cock."

And Nick's fist connected with Greg's jaw hard, so Greg fell unconscious down on the floor, and Nick left the apartment.

Nick lost his mask.

And it only got worse.


	2. Guilt

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI**

**Warning: NickGreg, and some dark themes. **

**A/N: I forgot to warn you about my pretty lousy English the first time! Sorry. Now you're warned! evil grin**

**Sorry about the long wait, but life's been totally CRAZY the last few weeks… and it doesn't seem like it's getting any better either!**

**And I could use some help here… don't quite know where this fic is headed yet! **

* * *

**Living with a Monster**

**Chapter 2: Guilt**

Greg found himself lying on the floor in his hallway. The floor definitely needed to be cleaned, and his white sneakers seemed to be colored gray from where he saw them. The side of his head throbbed from where it had hit the door. His jaw just felt wrong somehow, where Nick's fist had hit him. But that was not the worst part. He had this bad feeling in his stomach. Guilt.

He should never have said those things to Nick. No, he should never have _screamed_ those things to Nick. Greg had meant everything he had said, but he should never have spoken them out loud. Everybody could have bad days sometimes. Not just Nick. Greg didn't know what Nick went trough everyday. Greg never saw chopped up bodies, he never had to deal with dead people no one really cared about, people who didn't have friends or family that noticed they were dead. He didn't have to deal with the smells, the feeling of dead people's skin, didn't have to cut them open together with a man who sometimes told him unsavory jokes as they worked. Who was he to judge Nick if he came home a little more depressed than Greg would've liked? Greg loved Nick more than anyone. He should've understood Nick's mood swings. Accepted them.

The guilty feeling was too much for Greg. He got up from the floor, stumbled quickly into the bathroom, and knelt before the toilet and emptied his stomach. He hadn't felt so bad about something since the day he held that party and his drunken friend Monica walked trough that French window. She ended up in the hospital with pretty many cuts and scrapes that day.

The sour taste of old milk and cheese wasn't a taste Greg enjoyed much. What he had said to Nick echoed in his ears. It was so bad that it made Nick punch him. He had never done that before. Never. None of them had. How did a little misunderstanding end up like this? He shakily got up leaned on the sink. After having brushed his teeth, Greg found his way to the living room. His vision was clouded with hundreds of small dots. The heavy guilt was still there. He collapsed on the couch, tucking a hand under his head and studied the ceiling. There was a fly up there, desperately trying to find a way out. He was too tired to get up and help the poor bug out.

Nick was probably at the lab now, solving another bad case. Greg's eyelids closed, but he didn't fall asleep. He just couldn't. His stomach wouldn't let him. But after a few minutes the exhaustion dragged him to sleep.

* * *

Greg sat in his lab, finishing the analysis of some fluids that were found on a dildo for Warrick Brown. The one and only who used to call him 'Sanders'. Just like Archie, the guy had asked about the almost black bruise on his jaw. Greg had done everything not to get questions about it. He had put on his mask. It contained of a bright purple shirt that didn't match his mood at all, and some blasting music. But none of it helped. He still got questions. Questions he didn't quite knew how to answer. So he made up a story for them.

Archie swallowed it whole, but Warrick looked a little more skeptical about it. But he never got to grill Greg more about his nearly black jaw, because the results of the dildo came out of the machine. The person who had used it was a female, and a match to their suspect. With that Warrick rushed out of the room with the results in his hands. Something Greg didn't mind at all. He just wanted to be left alone. The nausea and the guilt had still not subsided. But concentrating about something else helped- like the music or the job he was doing.

He only go a few minutes alone after Warrick left before Catherine came into his lab with a small plastic bag with some more evidence in her hands that needed to be tested. She seemed to find his music a little bit too loud, so she turned it off. She gave him the swab, and leaned on his desk as she looked at him with her 'Catherine look'. Was that the way she looked at her customers before they paid her for her lap dance in her stripper days? If he wasn't so moody, he would have commented it, made a comment of sorts. But not today. He really didn't want to talk to her today. He wanted her to leave him the swab, and he wanted her to leave him alone.

"Hello, Greg." This was rare. She actually had time to talk to him. He put on his biggest and fakest Greg Sanders grin for her and prepared himself for the questions he knew he would get as soon as he turned towards her.

"Hi, Catherine." He sighted. There it was. The playful smile on her lipstick colored lips disappeared, and a frown took its place. He continued. "What can I do for you today?"

She looked at him like she hadn't quite understood what he had said, because she was too busy wondering about his bruise. The little plastic bag on the desk got her attention again. "Eh…Right. Blood swab. Suspect got a little cut on his finger as broke into a jewelry store. I've got all the time in the world today." She looked up at the mark on his face again, before the frown on her face replaced the slight confusion. "But what happened with you?" she added, and nodded towards his face.

"Ah, this?" he pointed at it. "Why is everyone asking that question? So not interesting- at all. But it's just a little souvenir from last night."

"And?" solving crimes was her job after all. He couldn't blame her as much as he wanted to. It seemed to be in her instincts or something.

"Yeah, I was on this bar last night, and a guy got a little pissed."

"But why?"

"He stood in my way, and I cursed at him. Unfortunately for me, it seemed like the guy knew some Norwegian." He couldn't lie to Catherine. At least he told her some of the truth, if only a bit of it.

She smiled. Nothing too serious, then. "One in a million, huh?" she smiled, and looked amused.

"Actually, the chance for that is less than one in a million." Greg sighted. Catherine laughed and run a hand trough her blonde hair.

"Drunk?" She actually found this funny. He didn't. He was nauseous again.

"Totally shitface."

"Hung over?"

"You have no idea." That probably made sense for Catherine, because he felt like that. He felt like he soon needed a visit to the men's room. Greg hesitated before he asked his next question. "So… Eh… any bad cases today?" the answer could relive what he could expect from Nick when he got home from his shift.

"Yeah, Nick got a rape. A little girl walked home from school, only to get raped. Dayshift didn't solve the case, so Nick got it. She was six years old. Can you believe it? I'm just glad I didn't get it. Why?" She never got an answer. Greg ran off to the men's room as fast as he could, with bile up in his throat. He barely made it.

As he unsteadily got out of the room, he was met with a couple of arms wrapped around him.

"You're really not doing well tonight, are you, Greg?" He shook his head, and managed to get himself out of Catherine's grip.

"I'm just fine and dandy, Cat." She didn't even seem to notice the hated nickname Greg gave her, she just shook her head, and followed Greg back to his lab.

"You know, Greg, I can't do anything about your hangover, but I can make that bruise of yours go away. People will stop bothering you about it." Greg finished his rapport, and laughed.

"Makeup? Catherine, most of the guys who stop by me every night, are CSIs. Don't you think they will figure it out?"

"Not when I'm done." And then she hurried to wherever she kept her makeup so she could make Greg as good as new.

None of the other CSIs who stopped by him that night so Greg got something to do asked him about the bruise. He was forever grateful for Catherine's help.

**A/N: thanks for reading!**

**And- I want to thank those who reviewed the last chapter- oONatsuOo****, cindy, DemonUntilDeath****, DaRkSiDeStHeOnLySiDe****, sasukesmyemo394****, cameragirl and ****klnolan**** and all those who put me on their favs/alert lists! **


	3. Uncertain

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI**

**Warning: NickGreg, and some dark themes. **

**A/N: English is not my first language… that's why I'm doing this. **

* * *

**Living with a monster**

**Chapther 3: Uncertain**

Nick never stopped by his lab that night. Brown gave him the different samples from Nick's rape case. Warrick claimed that Nick was pretty busy, so he couldn't deliver the small swabs himself. Greg didn't quite know what he should think about that. Or maybe his feelings were a little divided. He was somehow relieved that he didn't had to see how his boyfriend's mood was just yet, because he didn't know how he would react if Nick still wanted their relationship to be over. But he also just wanted to get over with it. Find out quick, just to stop his misery that was caused buy the uncertainty. Just like ripping of a Band-aid. Get it over with.

The guilt was still there. Maybe Nick was right in the things he said. Marilyn Manson blasted in his car as he drove home.

The lab rat stood outside his apartment, quite nervous. Nicks car was parked right beside his in the block's garage. So Greg knew he was home. Or, he could be home. What would happen if he went in there, and Nick was there? What would he do if Nick still was angry, or in the worst case, still violent? What if he was there, but just ignored him? What if Nick wanted to make it all alright again? Cold Greg at all let him do it? The blond man had never felt so uncertain about anything in his entire life.

Greg opened the apartment door, and kicked of his shoes. Nick was home. He was there, in their kitchen, placing some dirty pates in the dishwasher. He had already eaten. They always ate together. The small part of Greg that had hoped everything would be alright if they just got to talk together sank quickly away. The dark haired man wore that boring gray sweater and the matching pants again. He didn't know just how many times he had complained about them before. Nick turned towards Greg as soon as he noticed the other man was in the room. Greg found his expression impossible to read.

Greg just had to fill the awkward silence.

"Hey." He didn't know what else to say.

"Hi." Silence filled the room once again. His boyfriend had still that strange expression on his face. He looked like he was talking to a witness he thought was their suspect.

What did he do now? Greg suddenly found his socks very interesting. They were of two different colors. It was one of Nick's gray socks, and one of his own purple pair. He didn't have to fill the silence again. Nick did it for him.

"You blocked the doorway." Greg met Nick's eyes again in surprise. He had thought of many causes why Nick had actually hit him, but he had never thought it was because he 'blocked the doorway'. But Nick wasn't finished.

"I guess that's why you came home. To get an explanation." Greg's mouth fell open, like he didn't really understood what Nick said to him. He didn't know what to say.

"Now get out."

* * *

Greg didn't know where he was driving. The shock was too big for him. Nick hadn't changed his mind. Deep down had Greg wished and hoped that they could just forget all about their fight and have a huge make out time on their couch afterwards. He wiped off his frustrated tears with the back of his hand. Never had he had such an awful day. Nick had thrown him out of his own apartment. The fact that it was his apartment didn't strike him as he stood there dumbfounded in the kitchen. He didn't even feel like Greg Sanders anymore. The sky over him threatened him with heavy rain and possible some thunder.

Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate in his jeans. Greg silently hoped that it was nick who rang to apologize, but knew better than that. He picked it up, and moaned. _Julian._ Greg couldn't take that guy right now.

Julian was possible the most feminine guy living on this planet. He was a pretty stereotype homosexual. As a hair stylist and with shopping pastel colored clothes as his favorite pastime you couldn't really expect anything else. Julian had a high pitched voice and could talk about everything and nothing for several hours. Normally, Greg would babble just as much back, and none of them would really listen to what the other had to say. And of course- Julian was a homosexual. Just like Greg. But none of them found the other even the slightest attractive.

Julian was a year older than Greg, but had a twenty-two year old boyfriend who worked with his boyfriend as a hairdresser, and Greg had Nick, who solved crimes. Greg often said that solving crimes was way sexier than fixing someone's hair all day. Julian often said that Greg looked like a member of a bad boy band when he had his hair short and dark. So Greg got Julian to do his hair sometimes, just to make him shut up. They had met in college, and become friends even though they were quite different as persons. Julian was the first to know Greg's true sexuality. They rarely met, but spoke on the phone now and then. Julian was also the only one who knew about him and Nick.

"Helloooo Greggo, my man!" Oh, he wished Julian had stuck his tongue in his baby boyfriend's mouth instead of using it to torture Greg with. He sighed.

"Hi, Julian."

And Julian started talking, like he always did. Greg didn't pay very much attention to what he said, but he and his little boyfriend seemed to be putting up an adoption, of course, after they got married. He also talked about a new gay marriage law, and something about a conservative party and a Christian one and something that sounded awfully much alike "But they just need to get laid."

Greg couldn't see either of them as parents. But he didn't say anything. Then he got a very detailed description of how their wedding was going to be like, he got to know everything about the pastel colored decorations and flowers they were going to get, the very tasteful menu, and everything about the band they had hired. Julian barely stopped his rambling so he could inform Greg that he in fact _was_ invited to the wedding.

"So, how are things with the boyfriend?" Justin asked, in his usual chitchat voice, like he wanted to hear all about their love life, as well as their plans of getting a dog. He sounded like an old woman. No, in fact, he sounded like Catherine.

Greg sighed. He couldn't hide anything from Julian. No matter how irritating and how awful the other man's voice sounded, Greg needed to tell him the truth. He knew the other man cared. Maybe he could get an advice, even if all the advices he had gotten from Julian before sucked.

"We had a fight."

"Oh, that sucks. About what?" Julian asked. Greg didn't know how to answer him, so he just told him what he thought they were fighting about.

When Greg first drove away from the apartment, he didn't know where he was going. But apparently he was driving out of town. "A sock."

Julian drew his breath and said "Oh you've got to be kidding, sweetie. Jimmy and I were fighting about the same thing last week! That's got to be fate honey! Well, tell me more."

"He sort of threw out of the apartment. I don't know what to do. And it's my apartment, so legally, he can't throw me out. But I don't know what to do. What do I do?" Julian seemed shocked at what Greg told him, so he was glad he left out the punch.

"Seriously, I have no idea what you can do, Greggo. Me and Jimmy, we've never had that kind of fight. Maybe that's why we fit so well together--"

There was a loud bang. A traffic accident. Two cars before his. One of the cars seemed to be on fire. Greg could see the smoke, and some of the flames. He stopped his car and quickly got out of it.

"Julian, I've got to go. There's been an accident."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! **

**And- again- I want to thank those who reviewed the last chapter:**

**Crzywhtgrl, sasukesmyemo394, StarShinobi, happyharper13 and tsuki yamano (who got me to update by writing me a review that said "Update"!) **

**And I want to thank those who put****me on their favs/alert lists.**

**WE'VE GOT A NEW MARRIGE LAW! ALLOWING HOMOSEXUALS ADOPTION, MARRIGE AND STUFF! ABOUT TIME! **


	4. Useless

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* * *

**

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

**Warning: NickGreg, and some dark themes.**

**A/N: Bad, bad English. Or, at least, my teacher always said so. Heehee. –And I deeply apologize for the wrong update! (I updated the story, without adding a new chapter) **

* * *

**Living with a Monster**

**Chapter 4: Useless**

Greg ran over to the chaos that surrounded the two collided cars. It was a head-on collision. It involved two passenger cars, a black Audi and a smaller red car. The damages on both cars were extensive. He watched the crumbled, burning car. How any of the people who were in those cars could have survived, was a mystery to him. Two elderly men had gotten to the cars before him and worked with the black car. They tried to put out the fire. The driver in it seemed to be dead already. He was the only one in it.

He watched the scene, not knowing where to go first. Panic hit him. Everything happened so fast. The smoke clouded his vision, and made him cough. The dust from the desert the wind blew up didn't make things better, either. A little girl cried. Greg could clearly hear her sobs between the screams of pain and the burning flames. But he didn't know where she was.

This was the last place in the entire world Greg wanted to be.

"Hey, you!" A lady yelled at him. The red-haired woman stood next to the black car, and tried to open it, in vain. She motioned for him to come closer and help her with the car door. He ran up next to her, and noticed that the sobbing from the little girl came closer. There was broken glass all over the scene. Greg suddenly thought of people cutting themselves on the sharp edges. He almost didn't realize that broken glass was the least of his worries.

"Help me open the door, will you?" The red-head said, as she nudged the door. It wouldn't budge. He looked into the car. There was a woman in the front seat, with her head on the wheel. The air bag hadn't worked, it seemed. There was a lot of blood surrounding her. Greg couldn't see if she was breathing or not. Next to her, in the passenger's seat, sat the sobbing little girl. She might have been four years old of age. The girl wore a blue sweater, now dark with her mother's blood. Her dark hair was tied into two pigtails Greg never forgot her gray eyes, how they shone with confusion and despair, how her tears rolled down her round cheeks, and how her mouth made a grimace of pain and how it howled out her desperation. That face haunted him many times in his dreams the coming months.

In the backseat sat an older woman, stroking a boy's head. The boy seemed to have slept in her lap, before the car crashed. The kid was bleeding heavily from where the seatbelt he still wore had cut into his torso, and from something that looked like a broken leg. He seemed to be unconscious, or maybe he still slept, even though Greg doubted that. He might have been twelve-thirteen years old of age.

Greg turned towards the woman who stood beside him. "What do we do? Are you sure we should get them out of that car?" She shrugged. "I'm no doctor, I have absolutely no idea. The guys who put out the fire have called for an ambulance. I just hope they asked for more than one. I think we should get them out of there," she said.

"Okay." And they finally got the door open when both of them pulled it. The door was the left backseat door, so they could manage to get the boy out first. But because of the way he lay over the entire backseat, the two rescuers couldn't get him out of his seat belt. Greg ran over to his car and found a knife he kept there in case of emergencies like this. But he had never thought he would actually get to use it. Even though driving in Las Vegas could be pretty dangerous from time to time. People seemed to want and kill each by driving like lunatics. But stuff like that never happened to Greg. Not like this.

More people had come to the scene, and ran over to help them with the kid. He was bleeding heavily, and the redhead and another of the newcomers got him out and started to put pressure on his wounds. Greg doubted he would survive. Somewhere in the back of his head was there a voice that silently told him that damages to stomach and hips were the most dangerous ones when it came to car crashes. He didn't know where he had got to know that. Maybe the driving school teacher had told him it?

The crushed lady in the driver's seat was still where they had found her. No one had looked after her, even though she seemed to be dead. But the lab rat couldn't just leave her there, so he bent over to her and checked her breathing. There wasn't any. Not even weak pulse either. She was in fact dead. So Greg didn't do anything with her. He just left her there.

The girl was helped out by some of the newcomers. She was still crying, but seemed more or less unharmed. At least she seemed fine physically. But he doubted she would be fine emotionally afterwards. The poor girl had watched her mother die.

So that left Greg with the old lady. The woman was surprisingly calm with the whole event, and waited patiently for him to get her out of the broken car. He didn't manage to get her very far away from the vehicle. She couldn't walk by herself.

Greg laid her down so her head rested in his lap. He thought that might be the most comfortable for her at this moment. She had trouble breathing. "Whe… where are Tadas… and Gabriella?" Greg frowned. The names were foreign to him, but they had to belong to the children in the car. He looked over to where they tried to slow down the boy's bleeding. It was a lot of blood around him. He didn't want her to see, or worry about any of them at the moment. She needed an ambulance. Now.

"Tadas and Gabriella?" he tried his best to imitate the names, without full success. "Are they your grandchildren?" keep the woman's mind off her injuries and her dead daughter.

"Yes… they are. Two wonderful children," she said, and smiled.

"I can imagine that. Huh. What's your name?" He needed something to call her.

"Jovita… My name's Jovita," she breathed. She coughed, and some blood ran down her cheek. That couldn't be good. Her breathing was more labored than before. Greg positioned her so that her back leaned against his chest, in hope that it would help Jovita breathe better.

"So, Jovita, where are you guys from? I just assume you're tourists."

"Yes… yes, we are tourists. We are from Lithuania."

"Oh, my. Did you guys come all the way from Europe? The capital of Lithuania is Vilnius, right?" Jovita nodded, so Greg kept going. He silently begged for the ambulances to come. These people needed professional help. "So, how's Lithuania? I've never been there."

Somewhere behind them yelled a man "I lost him. I can't find a pulse!" That was Tadas, the woman's grandson. He died.

But Jovita was oblivious to her grandson's death. All she concentrated on was telling greg about her home country. She smiled before she began talking. "Well, it is small…" she coughed. "Flat and green-" her breathing hitched. Some more blood trickled down her face.

She never took another breath, and her body went limp in his arms. The ambulance didn't reach them in time. Jovita died. Only the crying girl was left. Her other family members got carried away in body bags. Greg felt so useless, and so lost.

* * *

Nick's case was a bad one. He hadn't managed to stop the rapist. The forty year old man had raped and killed another kid before he was put away in a tiny cell. It was a hard case for Nick, emotionally. So when Greg came home that day, he couldn't bring himself to handle Greg too. He had enough of his comments and quarrelling. The brunette couldn't explain

He just had to remove the problem for a little while. But the real problem wasn't Greg. He was just a part of it.

So Nick had gone to a bar. He hadn't end up drunk; he just… calmed his nerves. And then he drove back home. When Nick entered their apartment, he found Greg curled up on the couch. He was bloody and dirty, and he had fallen asleep.

He had been crying. Because of him? Because of what had happened?

Nick regretted throwing Greg out, and some of the treatment he had given the younger man. The Texan had had some time to think about what he had done wile Greg was away. He wanted to have a relationship with him. He really did. But Nick needed Greg to understand some things, and they needed to share the responsibilities equally. They could do it. Nick knew they could do it. But maybe everything wouldn't be okay tonight. They just needed to get better. If Greg still wanted to live together with him.

The CSI sat down on the couch next to the lab rat. The other man woke up when he felt the couch shift. He sniffled. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Greg sat up and ran a hand trough his hair. He didn't say anything. So once again fell an awkward silence over them. Nick felt some sort of responsibility for the conversation. He was, after all, the one who threw the other out of their apartment.

"Are you crying because of our fight?" Nick just had to know. He started to feel a little guilty of what had happened.

"No… Yeah… I don't really know. Maybe that too. This has been a seriously crappy day. I don't want to be all weepy-eyed. That's not like me. I haven't cried this much since…" he stopped and breathed. "Nick, I held an old woman as she died." Nick frowned. "Or, technical, she was already dead. David said she was already dead before I got her out of the car. It was a car accident." Greg snorted ironically as Nick lifted his eyebrows. The older man probably wanted to make a comment on how rare that happens, but decided to let Greg talk.

"She was dead, but I still talked to her. Apparently, the adrenaline made her brain and body work a little longer. I talked to a dead woman. Tried to make her concentrate on something else than her dying grandson. Her name was Jovita. They were here on a vacation. The daughter was the only one who survived. Her mother was already dead when we got him out of the wreck. Her son had fallen asleep with his head in his grandmother's lap. David said he bled to death. Died before the paramedics got there. I watched him die, too. There was so much blood. You have no idea." Greg lifted his head and looked Nick in the eyes. "I don't know how you do it. Deal with stuff like this everyday. I don't think I could have done it. "

"I usually don't watch them die. I deal wit them when they already are dead. You know that," Nick said sofly.

"Yeah, but still. She was old, you know. But that doesn't make it better."

"I know," Nick whispered.

* * *

Their argument wasn't mentioned that night. They had both way to much on their minds for that. They weren't fighting, but things weren't okay, either.

They slept in the same bed, but with their faces turned towards the walls and their backs turned towards each other. No more than that.

They both slept restless that night.

* * *

**A/N: thanks for reading!**

**I want to thank all those who reviewed the third chapter- stacy, stellar89, StarShinobi, Sasukemyemo349, Dark Angel Kira, Cassius, Cheezecurls, cameragirl, happyharper13 and Ama.Dear! Thanks to you all! And- as always- I want to thank those who read this story, and those who have put me on their favs/alert lists!**


	5. Breaking Apart

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Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

**Warning: English is still a problem for me… maybe I made them swear a little in here. Don't know what to definite as swearing or not, really. We're pretty 'liberal' when it comes to that here. Those beeps on the Discovery channel is the silliest thing I know. Everybody knows what they're saying. So what's the point? ... get's dizzy with wonder… **_**Why?!…**_

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! But, I have an excuse. I went to Prague! It was wonderful… **

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**Living with a Monster**

**Chapter 5: Breaking apart**

Nick and Greg sat on their couch next to each other, with their feet on the coffee table. Since the car crash a few weeks ago, relationship hadn't changed very much. It was hardly a real relationship anymore. They acted more like they were each others roommates instead of each others boyfriends. Nick spent a lot more time at work and at a gym than he used to. He got a few nasty cases; a guy who apparently took his own life by swallowing pieces of broken CDs, a girl who were starved to death because she was locked up in a closet by her mother and a couple of killed, pregnant prostitutes. Greg spent more time with other friends. Julian and Jimmy's wedding got closer and closer, and Greg found out that he might as well help them out. So in the end, they didn't spend very much time together. But when they did, they tried to act as normal as possible.

* * *

"I bet if you had parents who encouraged you, you would've ended up… I don't know, maybe… Maybe a cowboy! You could be a guy with horses and a ranch and the whole package. Or… You like birds, right?" Nick nodded. "I bet you would've ended up something like Grissom-"

"-Like Grissom?" The Texan lifted an eyebrow while he listened to Greg's more or less weird ideas.

"Yeah, like Grissom. Just like him, like he is with all his bugs. Just with birds instead of bugs. Oh I can see the whole thing. You could get hired by… Animal Planet!" Greg continued his ramblings, but Nick didn't do what he usually did when the blonde started doing that.

Nick got a little irritated with Greg for saying that, because he had wanted to work within law enforcement even though he had had many more unrealistic dreams, so he decided to attack the other man back, "as if becoming a DNA tech here in Vegas was _your_ biggest dream-"

The DNA tech continued "Nah, I admit it, Vegas was a dream, but the tech job was more a coincidence really. But at least I did something of my _own_ choice, not something my parents or any other of my family would like me to do. To be honest with you, I'm getting a little bit sick of the lab."

"Oh? Why?" Nick was a little surprised. He had thought Greg was happy with his job, a job that gave him a great opportunity to do more or less what he wanted; the analyzing didn't take that long time, if he didn't get a whole lot of samples. Reading porn and playing music were everyday activities for the man.

"Grissom asked me the same thing, but I just told him some crap Grissom seemed to understand. I mean, how can you really talk normal to a guy who spends his spare time racing with beetles? Dude, he must have had a weird childhood. Seriously, is it that weird I get nervous by that man? And have you noticed how he just _sits there_-" Greg drew a breath, and threw a popcorn in his mouth.

"Greg, stop." Nick got needed to know what the other guy thought of. "What do you want to do if you're not going to work in the lab anymore?" That could mean their relationship could get even more damaged than it already was, with the fact that they both worked graveyard. Nick wasn't really ready to let go of the other man yet. The truth was that he also got a little angry with the Greg. How could he just do something like that, without discussing it with Nick first? The change could affect everything, even though the blonde still worked graveyard.

"I didn't say I wanted to quit working in the lab, I'm just getting a little bored with the anal swabs and analyzing toothbrushes all the time! And I thought that I _maybe_-" he bit his lip, as if he was afraid of what the Texan thought about his idea, "I could try to get promoted to a CSI."

Nick remembered the first time his boyfriend joined them out in the field. It had ended with a disaster. Greg had frozen up totally when he saw the bleeding bus driver, and the whole lab had gossiped about his slip up later. And not in a good way, either.

"- and I've already spoke to Grissom, and he says that of I get a little training with you guys, and if I can find-"

"Slow down! You already talked to Griss?" Nick stared disbelieving at Greg who seemed much exited with the idea.

"Yeah. And as I was about to tell you, he told me that if I take that test, and if I can find a replacement in the lab-" he kept talking as he never sensed that something was wrong.

"We've never talked about that, Greg!" Nick got up from the couch and put his hands in front of him.

"No, I know, but it won't matter! From an economic point of view, it wont matter for me, and-" Greg drew a quick breath before he continued his defense, "I've been meaning to talk to you about it, but seriously Nick, you don't really have anything to do with my choice of career, because that should defiantly be my decision, not yours!" Nick looked like he was about to protest, but Greg kept going. "And, we don't even have a real relationship anymore, Nick! You're never home, so I always end up spending my days with Julian!"

"That's not entirely my fault, Greg! I've never said I didn't want you to try and get promoted, that's entirely your overactive fantasy which has made that bullshit up! And I don't want you to be with that Julian guy," Nick stated.

"You know what, Nick? You don't get to decide that! You don't get to decide anything, not anymore!" Greg turned around, as if to leave the apartment, but Nick stopped him. He grabbed the other man's shoulder, and turned him back around again. By now, Nick had managed to get a dark shade of scarlet on his face.

"_Don't_, don't _touch_ me for fuck's sake, Nick!" Greg released nicks grip on his shoulder, and shoved it off. He was furious now. He wanted to leave, run away from the man in front of him. And this time, Nick hadn't got his job or something similar to hide behind.

But Nick wasn't finished. "Do you really think you're the only one in this relationship, Greg? _Do you?_" Nick grabbed the blonde's shoulder again and shook it. He desperately wanted to understand what the relationship meant to him. "_Huh!_? It's not all about you. It never was! We're _two_ in this, Greg!"

Greg didn't manage to focus on the Texan's words, all the could think of was the gripping hand on his shoulder.'

* * *

_Standing in front of the door, desperate not to let Nick leave. _

Din helvetes jævla kuksuger

_That calm face. _

_The assault against his face. _

_The contact with the floor. _

_Nick leaving. _

_Nick loosing his mask. _

* * *

"Let GO!" Greg screamed, and shoved Nick away, into the coffee table.

Nick couldn't quite understand Greg's aggression, so he got even angrier with the other man. So he moved in for an attack, aiming for Greg's face once more.

Greg, being able to see where this would end, grabbed the gym addict's arm and got it away before it connected with his face, and stood there, shocked at what Nick just had tried to do again.

He shook his head in disbelief and walked backwards towards the hallway.

"Don't, Nick."

"Don't."

* * *

"_He apparently kills his victims somewhere else, wipes off all evidence and gets another victim from the same park. A bank recorded it twice by their security camera, but we were, as you all know, unable to identify the man. We were also unable to locate any traceable footprints, or foreign DNA. All the kids were throughout tortured at least physically. Since the autopsy also mentioned severe malnutrition, means that he keeps them alive for a while, approximately two weeks."_

_"There is also sign of sexual abuse. The mark on each of the girls' neck had a puncture mark, but we were unable to find anything in their blood system that tells us they were sedated when they got kidnapped. There might be witnesses who has seen something, but hasn't come forward with their information yet. Maybe we can make a more accurate phantom drawing of the guy. Brass is working on that. Thats' all we've got. But we need to find this guy."_

_"We need to find this guy fast."_

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**A/N: thanks for reading, guys!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter! Those people are - happyharper13, Cheezecurlz, Ama.Dear, sasukesmyemo394, Cassius and jazzy. And I will also have to thank those who put me on their favs/alert lists!**

**Thanks! **


	6. Red Bundle

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI**

**A/N: Happy new year, everyone! (a little early, but what the heck)**

**Warning: Bad English! (I'm no longer taking the classes (I don't need to anymore) so expect it to be worse than it was ;)**

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**Living with a Monster**

**Chapter 6: Red Bundle**

Susanna Thompson was just walking her dog in a late Sunday afternoon. The enormous animal had been so eager to get out; Bob hadn't been walked in a few days because of the rain. She had felt so guilty about the dog's lack of exercise, so the minute it had stopped raining, she decided to walk him to the park. He more or less pulled her all the way to park, where he knew he would get rid of the leach. And if she was honest with herself, she was grateful for the company and the exercise she got. The fresh air kept her more awake the rest of the day, and gave her a break from the reading. Changing profession might just have been the stupidest thing she had ever done. Psychology was only interesting for so long. They only stopped on their way so Susanna could buy herself a cup of coffee. Then, they had continued down to Las Vegas Breeze Park. Bob found a wet stick, and they played fetch for awhile. She threw the slippery stick as far as she could, and the brown dog came drooling back with it. Susanna was slightly distant, planning what she should cook for dinner that day and whether to call her mother or not. They had fought last week, about Susanna's lack of interest in her nieces. She had never had a good relationship with her older brother, so why bother trying to have a relationship with his kids? She was terrible with them anyway.

Bob came back, and bit her blue coat as if he wanted to show her anything. He dragged her over to a set of overgrown bushes, and tried to drag her with him into them. Susanna resisted, not wanting to get wet by crawling on the slushy ground. So instead, she bent down and pushed a few branches away to look at what Bob had found. It was a red bundle. Curiosity made her crawl further into the bush so she could look closer. The bundle was something small, something boney. It was something white dressed in a red skirt and a red sweater. Blonde hair, closed eyes.

Panic spread through her body as every rational thought left her.

Susanna Thompson fell back and got her blue coat covered in mud before she ran away, dragging Bob with her.

* * *

Jim Brass and Gil Grissom were already there when Nick came to the scene. This wasn't originally his case, but many of the others had been sent to another big scene. Warrick had told him that he thought the house he, Sara and Cath were processing probably was set on fire intentionally. It had killed four persons, including two kids. He tucked his jacket closer around him. It was beginning to get colder. Nick could se the breath coming from Brass' mouth as he apparently interviewed a witness or something. She could perhaps be a little older than Greg. The woman had big, curly hair and wore a blue coat covered in mud, and she clutched a dog's leach. The dog was sitting patiently beside her.

"…She could have been about seven. Maybe six, I don't really know. I didn't see her that clearly," the woman answered Brass. He nodded and scribbled something down in a notebook. The girl wiped away a tear rolling down her cheek "I was just walking Bob, I never expected anything like this to happen," she said, trying to choke a sob. It didn't work, and Brass did everything in his power to calm his witness down without showing his real irritation. He wanted to be over with this as soon as possible, and the woman the now hysterical woman was slowing him down.

Nick clutched his kit harder, and prepared himself for what he was going to see. He had been called in from his night off, and he ended up with something like this. A murder of a child was always worst case scenario for any CSI. Grissom saw him coming, and approached him. "Thanks for coming in, Nick," he said, "she's in the bushes over there." And he kept walking past Nick towards the patrol cars.

"Where are you going, Griss?"

"I'm the park's gardener for a day!"

* * *

Greg was genially surprised. Julian actually listened to what he had to say. No, Greg wasn't just surprised; he was amazed by how patient the other man was while he laid out about his and Nick's troubles, and how much of a jerk Nick was. He just sat there, on the edge of an awful pink chair that looked like it was supposed to be purple. The two of them were sitting in Jimmy and Julian's lounge, alone. Jimmy was out shopping wedding stuff and baby stuff. Greg was happy for that. Julian's boyfriend still hadn't grown on him yet. The wallpaper behind them was purple. Julian wore an orange striped turtleneck, which made him look very much like a gold fish. On the glass table in front of them was a stack of pictures of a baby, wedding decorations, different looking invitations, an open bottle of port, two wineglasses and a box of chocolate. Apparently, the two lovebirds had been discussing the wedding, and finally agreed to buy some of the stuff. Greg had already poured down more port than he could handle without being too honest, so he had told his old buddy everything. How unfair Nick was, what Nick had done to him, what he had done to Nick, everything. He had just simply poured the last days' sorrow and despair out for another guy. And the more port he got, the easier it was to tell his sad sobbing tale. It felt good. He felt relaxed. He felt happy. He felt _very _honest.

Silence fell between them as Greg finished. "My grandmother drinks port," he said. He had thought of that all day, that he only knew people in their eighties that drank port. But he hadn't dared say anything before.

Julian chuckled. Other people had probably commented on the same thing before. "Yeah, I know. But as you know, I have no dignity left, so I can drink port too, without it hurting my reputation. Si I guess it doesn't really matter anymore," Julian said. They both busted out in a laughing fit. And when it had calmed down a bit, Julian began babbling about everything and nothing as he usually did.

It felt so good, just sitting there in Julian's apartment without a worry in the world. All his despair, anger and confusion had disappeared. At least for a little while, and for that, he was thankful. Greg had found the solution of his problem. He hoped so. If only Nick would listen to him. Maybe. But it wouldn't solve it completely, but maybe it would… stifle their fights a bit. He took another look at the items standing on the table. Julian's couch was too soft to resist, so he sank deeper into it and let Julian continue his high pitched monologue.

* * *

It was exhausting, processing the body of a six year old girl. It hadn't taken long to do it out in the park, they couldn't find much. Even the bushes Grissom had cut down didn't lead to anything. Doc Robbins did the autopsy, and he watched. Both of them determined not to look over anything that could pinpoint anything at all. There were no joking or weird comments as it usually was when they cut up a victim. The girl had been strangulated. Some person had choked a six year old girl to death. How anyone could do that was beyond him.

Nick knew he was going to have trouble sleeping that night. He always had when he worked cases like this one. Usually, when he met new people and they learned what he did for a living, almost every one of them asked him the same question: how did he get rid of the horrid images of the bodies when he got home? But it wasn't usually the images that tormented Nick's memory. Of course, the graphic pictures and scenes they saw and processed had been a problem for him in the beginning, but then everything had been overwhelming. Once, when he still had been a rookie he had seen the body of a woman chopped up in pieces in a garbage bag. Her name was once Lisa Grey. She was killed by her schizophrenic husband. When they had found their apartment he was sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth. He was chewing on a bit of his wife. He hadn't almost slept for a week after that. But now, it was the smell that bothered him. The sensation of having the smell of rotting flesh up his nose was not he easily forgot. Nick still thought of specific crime scenes when he smelled bleach or hydrochloric acid. But also feeling different textures were hard to forget. The sticky feeling of coagulated blood in a victim's hair or the soft feeling of a woman's underwear.

But this was different.

She was a child.

David had estimated the TOD about one hour after the CSI's got to the scene. Rigor mortis hadn't set in, and her liver temperature hadn't lowered more than a few degrees. She had well placed bruises, and they were many. Bruises around her wrists, her hips, face. The worst ones were around her neck, clearly sowing how big the hands that had killed her were. They were ore or less all over her body. She was underweight for her height and age, and hadn't eaten in a few days. Dehydration had also been a problem for her before she died. Dizzy spells and nausea was probably some of the effects of not having any water for so long. But the worst of the whole autopsy was the rape kit. Nick didn't even want to know how many times the guy had forced himself into her, touched her, and done everything he shouldn't do. The girl must have been so confused and scared. Nick shuddered.

* * *

Greg wasn't at home when he finally came back from work. Not that he was surprised. Nick knew he shouldn't have reacted the way he did. Of course Greg wanted to get out in the field. He had seen plenty of times what his boyfriend did every shift, and to Nick, it looked awfully boring. And for someone as vigorous as him, that must be excruciating. And, in the end, it was Greg's decision, not his.

Nick went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. A door opened as he opened a can of beer and turned. Greg stood in the doorway. He looked nervous, and was fully dressed as if he was going to leave any moment.

"I… I've been thinking, Nick," he said to the floor. Nick wasn't able to move. What was he supposed to do? But he didn't get a chance before Greg's eyes met his, and instantly Nick knew Greg wasn't joking when Greg spoke up again.

"I think we should adopt a kid."

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! **

**Thanks to all those who reviewed my last chapter: ****crzywhtgrl****, ****oONatsuOo****, ****cameragirl****, ****happyharper13****, ****Lithien****, ****sasukesmyemo394****, ****xdannyx****, Cassius, ned56allsatar, Cassius (again! And no, i don't mind at all ;-D) ****Dark Angel Kira****, stacy and ****MiaCasey16****! **

**And ooops, almost forgot something! Have to thank those who put me on their fav/alert lists!**


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